


Early-morning Affection

by dasakuryo



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 02:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasakuryo/pseuds/dasakuryo
Summary: Iris needs to get ready for work. Barry'd rather she stayed for a little while longer.





	Early-morning Affection

Darkness gave way to a soft, dim brightness, stillness to stirring, silence to a distant faint slosh of running water. He squeezed his eyes shut, screwing up his face, as the warm sunlight chose to blind instead of greeting him. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips before he buried his face back in the pillow. Barry remained in a puzzled state of doziness, his mind still foggy from sleeping. Clearly reluctant to rise from bed anytime soon on a Saturday -or was it Sunday?- he rolled over, reached his hand out to Iris, hoping for nothing else but to be lulled back into sleep by the comfort of his body snuggling close to hers, the pleasant soothing feeling of her skin on his.

But instead of coming into contact with the softness and warmth of her body, his arm plopped down on the cold sheets. His eyes snapped open, this time letting out a frustrated grunt. The distant slosh he had heard was nothing but the splashing of the shower, the greyish clouds of steam contrasting against the bright yellow light coming from the bathroom, as it slid through the door and curled up on the ceiling-

Ready was he to made He was ready to make his way to the bathroom, when a cheerful Iris popped her face from behind the door frame, gazing into the room with a smile on her lips. The towel, wrapped in a turban, remained in careful and fleeting balance when she tilted her head and puckered her lips, clearly finding his raised eyebrows and frown a laughing matter. She giggled, and then half her body was peering over the frame, her shoulders bare.

“What's with the face?” she asked, faking confusion, eyebrows arched.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he hushed back.

Iris strolled barefoot back to bed, a warm smile on her face, almost playful by the way it curled up. She climbed up and sat right next to him, legs angled to the side so the tips of her toes gently brushed against his leg. He sat upright, back resting on the pillows, as his eyes scanned over her face.

She had unwrapped the turban, and was squishing the water out her hair. Still somewhat damp, the soft waves were starting to curl back up. There were glowing spidery lines going down her neck, as the water drops made their way from her hair and down her body. His throat bobbed at the sudden urge to kiss down and trace them all lazily. He ended up cradling her face with his hand instead, gently brushing his thumb along her jaw. Iris seemed to melt into the touch, making a soft hum as she closed her eyes.

He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the lips, nothing but a gentle, warm touch. He felt her smile, and instead of leaning further back leaned forward again, but this time sucked her bottom lip. Aware of her slight shiver as his hand grazed up her body, as his free hand skimmed over towel fabric to soft, warm skin, he pulled back. When she heaved a sigh, he couldn't help but smile -which might have earned him a harsh glare from those dark eyes.

“This is unfair,” she said, before leaning in herself, her kiss a solid one, “you're unfair,” she asserted, in between smacking sounds as their kisses grew deeper.

Lips on lips, lips on skin, tickling sighs, the fleetingwarmth of fingers brushing over exposed skin. His frustration bottled up in a heavy sigh at the inconvenient towel, an obstacle keeping his palm from feeling the warmth and curve of her waist; so his hand ambled from the curve of her waist to the curve of her thigh, and lazily worked its way underneath the towel and up, up, up. Iris let out a soft, muffled moan, and her breath itched on Barry's lips. His other arm, securely around her waist, was about to pull her closer when she pulled back.

        “Don't do this to me now, Barry, I am going to be late for work,” she protested in a low sigh that almost bordered on a whine. He grumbled, but complied retrieving his hand, letting it rest atop her arm. She didn't move from her spot, but rather than push him away her hand meandered on his arm. Barry impulsively drew her near to him, a soft smile curled Iris’ lips up. Her fingers were suddenly playing with the locks at the nape of his neck.

“You think you can let me get ready,” she whispered, head tilted, hand resting on his shoulder, “to go?”

“Inconclusive, Miss West,” he asserted, narrowing his eyes while the shadow of a smile threatened to break the seriousness bringing dimples to his cheeks.

She poked him hard on the chest at his teasing. He winced dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut, Iris giggled and his chuckle soon followed. When Iris stood up and away from his grasp, Barry let out a strained groan.

From her spot in front of the wardrobe, Iris shot him a bright smile and wiggled her eyebrows, before shamelessly unfolding the towel and letting it fall to the floor with a soft flop. _Okay, that was just rude_. The _nerve_ she had to do that to him... Covering his eyes, Barry had to talk himself out of dashing and bringing her back to bed.

“What do you think?”

Barry fingers moved apart enough for him to peer, just in case she was teasing him with no ounce of shame, again. His hand soon flew away from his face when Iris spread her arms out and quirked an eyebrow. Barry nodded appreciatively, since he clearly was in no position to hint that he would have very much preferred her with no clothes on. The pink silk shirt with golden buttons complemented the creamy-coloured tube skirt smartly -not that there was anything that Iris looked bad in. The shirt hung loosely while the skirt hugged her curves in a way that, right then, he took as a personal offense.

“Looks good,” he answered finally with a tiny smile that grew wider as she approached. The pair of heels clicked on the floor by the bed.

“Always so eloquent,” she pressed a kiss on his cheek, he took advantage of the proximity to grab her by the waist and pull her down closer. She snorted, but snuggled into his chest. Barry pressed a kiss to her forehead, melting in the embrace and into the faint brush of her fingertips, occupied in drawing lines with his freckles. Comforting solace spread through his chest, feeling her so close; he inhaled deeply, secretly reveling in the way her natural scent filled his nose, not even that edge of sweet jasmine from the perfume could mask it.

“Think you can get me some coffee while I do my hair?” she tucked her hair behind her ear, starting to pull apart from him but stopping when his brow furrowed. “What's with the face?” Iris echoed her earlier question, though the puzzlement that tinged it now brought a crease between her eyebrows.

For the answer, Barry's hand dived behind her ear and pulled her locks back to the front framing her face. The hair, drier now, kept on curling and shrinking. His features softened and a sheepish tiny smile snuck to his lips.

“I like it,” he said in a tiny voice, almost inaudible.

“What?”

“Your hair, your curls... I like them,” he said, his voice firmer, more reassuring this time.

When she huffed, shrugging, he took a strand between his fingers and slowly, carefully, twirled it around his finger let it slide until it sprung off, more coil to it then. Iris’ gaze fell down to her hands on his chest, a faint low sigh rustled.

“Really?”

He hummed, that smug expression of a mischievous proud smile and soft eyes, eye-lids halfway shut, on his face. He lifted her chin, tilting it upwards with the side of his finger, thumb pressing ever so slightly below her lower lip. Iris gaze grew softer and fonder, he covered her lips with his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and when they pulled apart their noses nuzzled side to side.

“So, about that coffee, mister—” Iris prompted.

* * *

 

“You know that you're screwed now, right?” Iris said with a flourish of her hand, while getting her things into her purse, “let's be honest.”

Barry smiled against the ceramic and his eyes twinkled from above his mug, promptly followed by creases in his forehead, “what now?” he asked, somewhat confused, following with his gaze around the kitchen. Her heels clicked promptly sharply as she slid on her black leather jacket.

“You will be in charge of wash-day,” a knowing smile spread over her face, "if we ever have kids someday."

“Is this payback? You want me to be the bad parent?”

“Oh, please, believe me. Our kids won't suffer from daddy's hair ever,” she retorted back, pricking his cheek too viciously for his taste, “well done, by the way, Bar,” she beamed.

He pulled a curl gently and released it, chuckling at the bounce, “well, I'm good at observing, and I learned it all from the best, actually.”

Turned out finger coiling curls was way quicker and easier when one had the helping hand of a boyfriend with meta-human speed. She kissed him, slow and tender.

“See you tonight, Barry,” she breathed, biting her lower lip. Barry watched her leave; she shot him a mischievous beaming smile over her shoulder before closing the door shut behind her.

His phone buzzed with an alert from Cisco. The Flash had work to do. Still, Barry hoped The Flash could call it a day early.

**Author's Note:**

> I really really want to see Iris sporting Candice's curls in the show, okay? So... this story happened. The scenario popped up in my head and I had to indulge in it. I also adore Iris and Barry being cute around each other ♥ A huge thanks to dynamic_ideation who proofread this drabble for me ~~(can't believe I had it in my drafts for months and completely forgot to post it n.nUu)~~. Hope you've enjoyed this short story. Feedback is always appreciated n_n


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